The Pensieve
by Novice Comic Lover
Summary: "I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind…. At these times… I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure." a collection of drabbles and whatnots
1. Chapter 1

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light." - Dumbledore, Prisoner of Azkaban

Hermoine sat in an armchair in the Burrow with a book in her lap. This was not unusual for her. What was unusual, was that her eyes weren't taking in any of the words. She had been staring at the pages blankly for what felt like hours, but was in reality only a few minutes. Giving up on the book, she shut it and raised her eyes to take in the rest of the room.

Harry and Ginny were sitting on the couch. Harry was trying to take a hold of Ginny's hand, but he was hesitant. Hermoine could understand that. Since the end of the war, Ginny had made it clear to Harry that she had missed him, but that didn't mean she forgave him for leaving her behind. Harry had been trying to get in her good graces ever since. But now, as Harry lightly placed his hand over Ginny's and began wrapping his fingers around hers, she eagerly responded pulling him close and leaning her head on his shoulder. Hermoine smiled weakly. Harry looked over at her and mirrored her smile with a miserable one of his own. They both knew Ginny wasn't giving in because of Harry. Despite that, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she burrowed into him.

Trying to avert her eyes and give the couple some privacy, Hermoine turned her attention towards the doorway where she could see into the kitchen. Arthur and Molly sat stone still at the table with steaming mugs in front of them. Molly had her hands wrapped around a mug, but was unmoving, staring into the depths with a blank stare. Arthur lifted his head from his own mug to see this and moved a hand over one of Molly's. She took it, turning her gaze to him, and they shared a pair of wistful smiles between them. Hermoine noticed Charlie behind them, moving silently to refill their mugs before she diverted her attention again.

She stared at the fireplace, but there was no movement. Bill and Fleur had left quite a while ago. They had been staying at the Burrow with everyone else, but every so often they made some excuse to go to their own home. No one had really said anything about it, but it was obvious they were going home for some privacy. The Burrow was crowded, and they were still in their honeymoon phase of being completely incapable of taking their hands off of each other, which Hermoine figured was only prolonged by the whole needing to reaffirm that they were alive after all of the death that had surrounded them. She hadn't shared this theory with anyone but Ginny, who had snorted that it sure wasn't the floo powder that had them all disheveled looking.

Figuring that Bill and Fleur wouldn't be back for quite a while, Hermoine moved her gaze to the window where she could just make out the tops of two red heads. For the last few days, George had been glued to Percy's side. It had thrown everyone off guard, and there had been much quiet discussion about the whole thing. Everyone was already worried enough about George, but his sudden attachment to the one Weasley who was infamous for lacking any sense of humor had made no sense to anyone. Well, except for Ron.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron had whispered into Hermoine's hair as they had lain on the grass looking out at the stars. Hermoine had been thinking aloud, theorizing why Percy of all people was the one George was turning to. She had proposed that it was because of Percy's absence from the family and he was making up for lost time, to which Ron had laughed. She had mused that perhaps he was simply bonding to the sibling closest in age to him, but Ron pointed out that the age gap between George and him was smaller. Finally Hermoine muttered the theory that had had her squirming with guilt, that perhaps George was spending time with Percy because he was the only other one not coupled up. Ron had been quiet for a time thinking about it. Just as Hermoine was sure the realization was sinking in and weighing him down as it was her, Ron had simply offered the response, "Charlie." Confused, Hermoine lifted her head from against his chest and looked down on him as he explained that Charlie was also not paired off. Hermoine frowned, her theories all disproven. She settled back against Ron's chest and worried her bottom lip as she tried to figure the situation out. And that's when Ron had finally explained to her what he had figured out almost immediately. "Percy is the only one of us that won't make him laugh."

Hermoine smiled at the memory. So many people looked at the famous little trio and saw her as the smart one and Ron as the loyal, brave, and a little bit clumsy one. But Hermoine saw things differently. Ron was smart in a way that people just didn't notice. He understood people. He understood them in a way that so many people, Hermoine included, just couldn't. It was why he could be so loyal so fast. Hermoine envied him for that talent.

As she thought of Ron, Hermoine realized that she had no idea where he was. She glanced back around, but he wasn't there. Finally, her eyes rested on the stairs, and she knew where he was. Setting her book aside, she climbed the stairs until she reached Ron's room. His door half open, she saw him standing with his back to the door, still in the t-shirt and jeans he had been wearing earlier in the morning when she had sat next to him at breakfast holding his hand under the table. Hermoine quietly approached him to find that he seemed to be arguing with himself.

"Was it the blue or the black one?" Ron muttered angrily turning his head.

"Need some help?" Hermoine carefully reached out and put a hand on his arm. He spun around, his face turning as bright red as his hair as he noticed her there. Hermoine bit her bottom lip as she waited for him to shut down and push her away. He'd made a habit of doing that in all the years she had known him.

She'd pointed it out to him once, when they had a long, tiring argument about all that had happened between them in the past several years. She had almost screeched as she accused him of being brave when it came to everything but his feelings for her, pointing out that if he had just told her how he felt all those years ago, that they could have been together all along. The argument had begun after Ron had made the confession that he had been jealous at the Yule Ball when he saw her with Krum, an admission that he thought would be romantic but had led to them arguing. Not to be outdone, Ron had shouted back that she hadn't exactly said anything when he had been with Lavender. He had even pointed out that he at least had kept trying to be her friend, whereas she wouldn't even deem to talk to him. Hermoine had begun to feel embarrassed by what he had pointed out and almost started to apologize until she saw the smug look on his face. The row only grew more heated from there until Ron had screamed, "Well I'm trying to tell you how I feel now, so why are you ruining it?!" And somehow, the fight had dissolved instantly between them and they were giggling like school children, so hard that they could barely catch their breaths.

Hermoine held her breath now as she waited for Ron to make a snide remark or look past her and ask for Harry. But he surprised her.

"I can't remember which one was Fred's," Ron sighed. "These are the only dress shirts that fit me right now and one of them used to belong to Fred."

"Have you asked your mum?" Hermoine offered.

"I don't want to bother her," Ron shook his head. "Besides she'll just say it doesn't matter. But it does. I can't wear his shirt to his…"

"Ron," Hermoine said sadly. She looked up to see his eyes watering.

"It's bad form," Ron whimpered as Hermoine wrapped him tight in a hug. Ron all but collapsed into her embrace and wept quietly.

Some moments later, Hermoine heard a noise on the stairs. She looked over to see Harry making his way up, but when he spotted the pair, he gave Hermoine a nod and retreated. Hermoine squeezed Ron a little tighter before pulling away. She wiped away his tears and smoothed his hair back from his face before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"I think you'd look very nice in the blue," Hermoine whispered. "And I don't recall Fred wearing a lot of that color."

"Yeah, okay," Ron murmured against her hair, pulling her close again.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

When they finally made it down the stairs, everyone was gathered in the sitting room. Heads turned as the two entered, hands entwined, but no one said anything. A blush crept up Ron's neck, but he only held onto Hermoine more firmly.

"Fred always thought those two would be good together," George stated calmly from behind them causing them both to jump. The pair turned around to find George entering through the back door with Percy on his heels.

"Really?" Percy prodded as Ron and Hermoine walked towards them.

"Yeah," George continued softly talking mostly to Percy, "I told him that Ron would never have the guts to make a move, but he said they'd be together before the end of their school years. He said he'd bet his life on it."

"Huh," Percy nodded thoughtfully. Everyone was quiet for a minute and then suddenly a loud noise rang out. George was laughing. It sounded like his laugh used to sound, loud, hearty, and it had him doubled over, clutching his sides as if it hurt. The others froze for a bit, alarmed and a little unnerved. And then Ron joined in, with Hermoine and Percy soon following. Snickers turned into chuckles that turned into hoots as they collapsed into a fit of giggles. It alerted the rest of the family and Harry who came sweeping in, at first concerned, and then as the gigglers tried to fill them in on the joke as they gasped for breath, the whole family was swept up into the laughter. And as they laughed, Ron caught Hermoine's eyes and gave her hand a squeeze. Without skipping a beat, she squeezed his hand back.


	2. Chapter 2

"Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expect." - Luna Lovegood, Order of the Phoenix

"Hey Jamie," Harry looked up as his oldest son entered the play room. He was on the floor with Albus where they were building a tower with toy bricks. "Where's your mum?"

"She's in the bathroom," James answered, a little frown marring his little face as he walked back over to the castle he had built all on his own. He had left the room in search for his mum wanting to show her what he'd built.

"Still?" Harry looked back just as Albus knocked down their tower of blocks. Again. He laughed and clapped and James laughed with him as he sat down next to him and they started to build another tower. Harry got up with a weak smile and instructed Jamie, "I'm going to check on her. You stay with Albie, okay?"

"Gin?" Harry knocked on the bathroom door softly. He didn't get an answer, but he did think he heard a choked sobbing sound. "Gin, are you okay?" He tried again, but there was no answer other than a horrible wailing sound became more pronounced. Worried, Harry called out before trying the door. "Gin, I'm coming in now."

"I'm turning into my mother," Ginny greeted him with a sob as he managed to get the door open with a simple charm. She was curled up on the floor leaning against the bathtub, her knees tucked tight to her chest as she cried.

"What?" Harry was frozen on the spot seeing his wife like this. She wasn't much for crying or locking herself in rooms. Granted, she had been kind of weird earlier in the morning. Anytime he'd tried to help or even just give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, she'd snapped at him and then immediately gotten all timid and apologetic. He'd shrugged it off, thinking she was just tired, but then she'd locked herself in the bathroom for the last twenty minutes. As he looked at her now, Harry realized that he could really be a thick git sometimes.

"I'm going to be like my mother," Ginny moaned again. Harry finally unfroze and was starting his way towards her when she snapped her head up from her knees and fixed him with a fierce glare, "I swear if you start filling this house with half-torn muggle contraptions, I'll…"

"Gin," Harry cut her off gently. He crouched down next to her and rested his hands on her knees, "What are you on about?" Without a word, Ginny handed him a plastic stick. Harry took it and stared at it, trying to decipher the little plus symbol before looking up into her red-rimmed eyes. As he began to put the pieces together he moved to sit beside her, resting his back on the tub. "You're pregnant?"

"I love my mum, I do," Ginny's voice was softer now as she finally spoke. They had sat in silence for a bit as Harry took in the news and tried to understand her rambling. He loved Mrs. Weasley. She had mothered him over the years and taken him in as family long before he and Ginny got together. She had been one of the most ecstatic when he had officially become a part of the Weasley brood. He had studied his wife as he thought about what she could possibly be trying to say. As much as he loved both Mrs. Weasley and his wife, he didn't really see much of her in her daughter. Sure they both had the trademark Weasley red hair, and he supposed they shared a few facial features, but that's about where the physical similarities ended. He supposed considering the circumstances that she was referring more to the fact that they were both mothers, but even then they differed. Mrs. Weasley was quite a bit more stern and strict than Ginny was with their boys. She was also constantly at home fussing over this and that while Ginny preferred to get out more frequently even if it was just to take the boys to the park. They really couldn't be more different. Well, except for the fact that they could get quite the temper when crossed. Harry was brought back to reality as Ginny spoke, "But I can't be her, Harry."

"No one is asking you to be," Harry soothed, still feeling out of his depth. He put his arm around Ginny and rubbed her shoulder in small circles.

"We're going to be outnumbered," she sighed, and Harry felt the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding slip out as he felt his wife come back to him.

"Between your bat bogey hex and my training, I think we can take them," Harry teased. "At least for a while."

"And I'll be run down and too tired," Ginny whinged, daring to look over at Harry for a second. But she tore her gaze away quickly and hung her head before whispering the next part, "And I'll just be a mum,"

"You could never be _just_ anything, Gin," Harry tried his best to reassure her. He knew the Daily Prophet had been offering her more and more work lately. She covered the occasional local quidditch match, but had declined most of their offers so that she could be there for the boys and Harry. She had sacrificed her blossoming quidditch career when they had decided to start a family, and she kept making more and more sacrifices as their family grew and Harry's career took off. Harry realized as he really thought about it, that he couldn't be entirely surprised that it all was starting to take its toll. Especially with this new and unplanned addition. So as he held her on their bathroom floor while she cried, he tried to think of what he could say to express his gratitude for everything she'd done, to promise her that they'd find a way to make time for her career dreams, and to tell her how much she meant to him. But Harry had never been great with words, so he simply uttered, "I love you."

"You must think I'm terrible," Ginny looked up at him, her voice quivering with the threat of new tears.

"No," Harry replied instantly and easily. She relaxed into his embrace and stretched her legs out next to his. "I think you got a bit of a shock and you're tired. Why don't you take a nap? I can manage the boys for a bit."

"Maybe he'll be quiet like Albus," Ginny mused as she placed her hand over her stomach.

"So you think it's a boy?" Harry couldn't help but smile as one of his hands joined hers, rubbing soft circles over the non-existent bump. As shocked as he also felt, he couldn't help but feel over the moon at the news once it finally sank in. He'd been denied having a family for so much of his life that with each new addition he felt a little bit like the world was finally paying him back for all the misery and heart break he'd had to endure. It was a selfish thought, but luckily his wife had been extremely accommodating.

"I've been surrounded by boys all of my life," Ginny scoffed. "I doubt that's going to change anytime soon."

"It could be a girl," Harry argued lightly. "As pretty as her mother."

"How did this even happen?" Ginny groaned, resting her head fully on his shoulder.

"If I had to guess, it was that night both boys were at the Burrow with your mum and you were wearing that dress…" Harry bit his lip as the memory tugged at his mind.

"Harry!" Ginny swatted him playfully, though she had joined his chuckle with her own throaty laugh. Harry's grin grew at the sound.

"Or maybe it was that quickie on the breakfast table," he mumbled against her ear after placing a kiss on her neck. He followed it up with a far more chaste kiss to her cheek.

They were both silent for a bit, and Harry hoped she was replaying that memory as well. Breakfast that day had been difficult. Albus was throwing more food back at them than he was eating, which made James fussy from the lack of attention since his parents were having to take turns distracting their youngest in hopes that they could sneak in an occasional bite. Giving up on a nice family meal, Harry had wrangled the boys in front of the telly to watch a cartoon so he could go help Ginny with the mess left in the kitchen. But as he'd stood in the doorway, the obnoxious theme song playing in the background, he had found himself pausing.

Just the weekend before, the boy's had stayed over at the Burrow so Harry and Ginny could attend one of those miserable ministry functions that they both hated but were obligated to make an appearance. As a reward, they had also taken the following night to themselves to unwind. Over dinner in a quaint muggle restaurant that they hadn't been to in far too long, Harry had found himself desperately trying to reign in every ounce of strength and willpower he had so he didn't lunge across the table at his wife. That night, Ginny had taken time to do her hair, and she was wearing a new sleek dress that showed off the curves that only been heightened by motherhood. Harry felt transported back in time at the sight of her. It was like they were both randy teenagers on a date, both teasing each other to the point of breaking as they tried to make it through dessert. They'd barely made it back through their front door before he'd pounced on her. They had made a night of it, talking and kissing and making love like they had all the time in the world like they used to do before either of the boys arrived.

But as he'd watched her trying to clean up the mess on the breakfast table a few days later, Harry had found himself suddenly and impossibly needy yet again. His eyes raked over her bottom in those ratty pajama pants, moved up the oversized t-shirt that was probably once his, and swept up to her hair thrown in a messy bun in an attempt to keep it out of Albus's suddenly grabby reach. He slid up behind her, one hand wrapping around her and pulling her tightly to his chest while the other slid up her shirt, all the while his mouth was trailing wet kisses up her neck. She'd started to protest, or at least noise her surprise, but he quickly spun her around and clamped his mouth over hers. She had responded immediately with a crushing kiss. Mere minutes later, Harry had Ginny on her back on the breakfast table. One of his hands was covering her mouth, trying to muffle her moans and his own grunts were lost, as was his head, under her shirt and against her chest. Her heels urged him on while her hands scrambled for purchase against the table. Her eyes, when she could peel them open ever so often, came to rest on the doorway, carefully looking out as he adjusted his grip on her backside for leverage. Then just as quickly as they had come together, they were righting their clothes and sweeping clean the mess of the kitchen, though this time with matching smirks on their faces. Ginny had just gathered all of the dishes into the sink when James had walked in and asked his dad if they could watch another episode.

"I still don't know what got into you," Ginny shook her head, pulling them both from the reverie. "I had oatmeal in my hair."

"Gorgeous as ever," Harry dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"Git," Ginny rolled her eyes. But she was smiling as she leaned back against him. They sat in a more comfortable silence for only a quick moment before a little head peeked round the door. "Jamie! Oh, darling. I'm sorry if I scared you. Come here," Ginny called to her oldest. James dragged Albus by the hand over to their parents and then released it before crawling into his mother's lap. Ginny stroked his hair as she cooed, "Mummy's okay. She's just a little crazy right now."

"A little?" Harry muttered. Ginny shot him one of her infamous glares, but Harry simply pulled Albus into his lap. James reached over and patted his brother's head, trying to mimic his mother's actions.

"You're such a good big brother," Ginny smiled encouragingly at him. She didn't even think as the words slipped from her mouth, "Do you think you could teach Albie to be a big brother, too?"

"You're going to have a new little brother or sister," Harry explained at James's quizzical expression, quirking a smile and placing his hand back over Ginny's stomach in display.

"Do I have to share with it, too?" James grumped seriously. His parents laughed at his expression, but it quickly changed to one of excitement. "Can we teach them to fly? And play quidditch together?"

"Sure," Ginny agreed easily before Harry shot her a questioning look and she quickly amended, "When you're all old enough."

"Albie, there's a baby in there," James said authoritatively as he pointed to his mother's stomach.

"Baby?" Albie repeated after his brother, even going so far as to poke his mother's tummy with his chubby little finger.

"Yeah," Harry smiled as his wife laughed and new happy tears sprung to her eyes, "a baby."

"I love you," Ginny directed at her husband before reaching out to hug her sons tightly. "All my boys. What would I do without you?"

"Probably shag a bit more," Harry joked in a quiet voice.

"What's shag?" James turned to his dad.

"A type of carpet," Harry answered back with the straightest face he could muster.

"But…" James looked between his parents with confusion. His mother was shooting an annoyed look at his father who seemed about to burst with laughter.

"Daddy's just being silly, love," Ginny hushed her eldest with a slightly forced smile. She turned to Harry with a less friendly expression and added, "And if he's not careful, he'll be sleeping silly on the couch."

"Speaking of sleeping…" Harry urgently wanted to steer the conversation elsewhere, and Albus's loud yawn had been almost perfectly timed.

"How about my two best boys nap with Mummy today?" Ginny asked as the four of them all moved to get up off of the floor.

"I don't need a nap," James insisted.

"Well I do," Ginny held out her hand for her obstinate son. He looked at her with defiance, but took the hand and followed her into his parent's bedroom. Ginny helped James clamber onto the bed before following him and settling against the pillows. Harry had followed with a sleepy Albus in his arms and set him next to his mother on the bed. Ginny snuggled both the boys close to her despite James's weak protests while Harry pulled the blankets over his family.

"Boys, isn't Mummy pretty?" Harry prodded as he stood over them proudly, grinning as his sons cuddled closer to their mother. "Glowing and everything."

"Git," Ginny teased weakly while he tucked them in.

"Yeah, but you love me anyways," Harry planted a soft kiss on his wife's lips followed by one on each of his son's heads, both of whom were already dozing.


End file.
